Family

Who’s the parent?

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As my mother’s Alzheimer’s progresses and caring for her becomes a greater challenge for my father, our relationship is changing. I’m beginning to feel more like parent than child. No longer is a visit a time to kick back and relax. Instead, it’s a time when I do whatever I can to make their lives a little bit easier.

For the past several years, we’ve been in the habit of giving the apartment a thorough cleaning whenever we visited; doing the things that Dad didn’t have the time or energy for or that his failing eyesight kept him from noticing. Now there’s Victoria, the bubbly Filipina housekeeper/caregiver who comes in twice a week. What a blessing she has been! This time we didn’t have to do any housework but there were many other ways that we were able to help out.

Until this visit, my proud and independent father had never asked me for help. In fact, in the past, much of what we did around the apartment we did when he was out because he wouldn’t have wanted us to do it. Now, however, all that has changed. For the first time ever, my father actually asked me for help! Together we took care of paperwork that he would have needed a magnifying glass to struggle through on his own. I also accompanied them to the geriatric clinic, took care of Mom while Dad went to the dentist and shopped for things for Mom and for the apartment.

It would be so much easier if we lived closer and I could drop in for a few hours once or twice a week instead of visiting only three or four times a year but I can’t beat myself up over that. I couldn’t afford to live in Vancouver even if I wanted to. The cost of housing is astronomical. When I start feeling guilty about not being there often enough, I simply remind myself that it was my parents who moved me far away from there in the first place. They chose to return long after I’d grown up and made a life for myself somewhere else.

Each time we visit, I go away happy if I feel that we’ve won a few victories; accomplished a few things that make life better for them. This time that included Richard taking Dad out to shop for some much needed clothing for himself.

I don’t think I’ll ever be completely comfortable with the need to cut my mother’s meat for her and help her dress, the things that she once did for me, but I’m glad to be able to do them once in awhile. I was especially delighted to be able to take her out for a long walk in the sunshine. Though she enjoyed it thoroughly and some of the flowers in Central Park were bright enough for her to actually be able to see, she seldom agrees to leave the apartment except to go to medical appointments.

Knouff Lake, British Columbia

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When Richard’s sisters and brothers gathered for our niece’s wedding at Sun Peaks, several of us camped together at beautiful Knouff Lake Resort. Towing our trailers up the long steep climb to the crystal clear lake nestled between the mountains about 3800 feet above sea level was well worth the effort. Established in 1904, this 4-season resort is advertised as one of the oldest fishing camps in B.C. but it is much more. Surrounded by the beauty of nature, it provides a tranquil getaway from the hustle of day to day life. Owners, Don and Gloria Lamberton, went out of their way to make our stay a comfortable and memorable one. They even provided us with a key to the gate so that family could come and go after the usual 10:00 p.m. closing time.

That’s our trailer on the right.

Our sister-in-law, Brenda, is an avid geocacher like us. When I mentioned that I’d seen on the geocaching.com website that there was a cache hidden on one of Knouff Lake’s tiny islands, she was determined that we should find it. Richard’s sister, Sue, was intrigued when she heard us talking about searching for these hidden treasures so the morning after the wedding, she joined us and the three of us set off on an adventure. The husbands, thinking us a bit crazy, stayed in camp.

Though I much prefer the quietness of a canoe, the Lambertons were reluctant to rent one to three prairie chicks so we set out in a big, flat-bottomed rowboat instead. Since I was born a coastal girl and learned to row at the age of 6 or 7, I took the oars and off we went. Sue was a little nervous but I assured her that we’d have to try very hard to capsize that thing on such calm waters. By the time we returned to camp, she’d taken a turn at the oars and what fun we’d had!

As we pulled ashore on Beaver Island, we three women in our 50s and 60s felt like kids on a Tom Sawyeresque adventure. With GPS units in hand, we clambered through the undergrowth and soon found the cache exactly where it was supposed to be.

My sis-in-laws, Sue & Brenda

We’d also been told about a memorial on one of the other islands, placed there in memory of an avid fisherman and outdoorsman who hosted an annual fishing derby at the lake each summer until his untimely death in 2009. Before returning to camp we rowed over to check that out and also discovered the skeleton of a teepee standing nearby.

Until Stacey began planning her wedding we were completely unaware that Knouff Lake (also known as Sullivan Lake) even existed but now that we’ve found this hidden gem, we’ll likely be back again. It’s only a short distance off our usual route between home and Vancouver, a trek that we make two or three times a year to visit grandchildren and elderly parents. We don’t often have the trailer with us though so perhaps next time we’ll rent one of the rustic log cabins overlooking the lake.

Here comes the bride!

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On a misty summer morning ten years ago my cousin was married in the First Nations feasthouse on the top of Grouse Mountain overlooking Vancouver, BC. Though he arrived via the Grouse Grind, a challenging 2.9 km hiking trail that climbs 2800 feet up the face of the mountain, his bride and most of the guests took the easier way up the mountain arriving via the Skyride, North America’s largest aerial tramway.

On Friday, we attended another mountain wedding. Our niece , Stacey, was married high above Sun Peaks Resort near Kamloops, BC. This time the bridal party and their guests, including Stacey’s 88-year-old grandmother, arrived via chairlift!

It was a beautiful sunny day and the setting was spectacular.

The ceremony was simple and meaningful. It was truly a family celebration with Stacey’s brother, Martin, as her “man of honour” and Gerhard’s father and older brother as his two groomsmen. Even Odin, their beloved canine was present! Richard was honoured to be asked to bring a blessing.

Congratulations, Stacey and Gerhard! May all your days be blessed and may your life together be as beautiful as the day on the mountain!

A life of its own

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I’m a Site Stats junkie. When I’m at home, I check WordPress several times a day to see how many people have viewed my blog. I guess that sounds a little narcissistic but I love knowing that someone has read what I’ve written and I’m always fascinated to see where they’re from and what search terms have led them here.

We were home for less than a week in June. Most of the month I was either camping without internet access or so busy that I didn’t have time to spend online. Consequently, I only posted three times and I rarely checked my stats. When I finally did, it was with a bit of trepidation. Had Following Augustine died of neglect? Would my stats page show nothing but a flat line like a heart monitor on a patient with no pulse?

No! It appears that the blog has taken on a life of its own.

Even when I’m not here, when I’m off gallivanting instead of writing and I’m not even checking my stats, you, my faithful readers are still here!

It thrills me to know that because the trailer is packed and we’re leaving again tomorrow morning! There will probably be much to blog about over the next few weeks but once again, we won’t always have access to the internet and when we do I’ll sometimes be too busy. There’s a family wedding to attend near Kamloops, BC and grandchildren and aging parents to visit in Vancouver. We’ll also cross by ferry to Vancouver Island and spend a few days with some of Richard’s relatives at Port Alberni. When our time with family is over, rather than coming straight home, we’re going to follow BC’s gold rush trail through the mighty Fraser River canyon to Cache Creek then on northward through Cariboo country. With a side trip to historic Barkerville, we’ll continue at least as far north as Prince George before circling back into Alberta. Along the way there will be geocaches to find and perhaps a few golf course to play as well as lots of history to explore.

Yes, there will be much to blog about and I will update as often as possible. In the meantime though, I’m happy to know that the blog will survive without me!

 

Graduation day!

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Taking a two-year-old and a four-year-old to a university convocation might not seem like the best idea in the world but that’s what we did today. Seven and a half years, one husband and two children after she started working toward her degree, our daughter Melaina graduated from the University of Calgary today! I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a more well earned degree and the children were so much a part of the process that it was only fitting that they be there for Mommy’s big moment.

All dressed up and ready to go!

Melaina graduated from high school in 2001 and headed off to college to begin a two year legal assistant program. By early in her second year, she was already fairly certain that she didn’t want to spend her entire life at that career but Melaina isn’t a quitter. She finishes what she starts so finish she did. After graduation she went to work for the Merchant Law Group. At nineteen years of age with little life experience behind her, she found herself handling difficult immigration and residential school cases that she didn’t feel ready to deal with. In January 2005, after a year and a half on the job, she chose to cut back to 30 hours a week at the office and entered university part time.

That fall she became a full time student again. In December of 2006, during her Christmas break from school, she and Aaron were married. Full time studies came to an end when Drew was born in the spring of 2008. In fact, she had to have her final exams deferred when he arrived a little earlier than expected! She wrote them when he was just a week old.

Melaina had planned on graduating that spring but exhaustion brought on by her pregnancy and what was later determined to be an enzyme deficiency had made it impossible for her to carry a full course load that year. When Drew was born she was still a few courses short. Four years later, by taking a night course here and an online course there, she finally completed all the requirements for her degree and today was a day to celebrate!

Melaina’s graduation comes 37 years, almost to the day, since my own. When the graduating class rose to recite their pledge today, all past UofC graduates in attendance were invited to stand and recite it with them. As I did, I thought of the many papers I’d edited for her along the way. Though hers is a Bachelor of Arts and mine a Bachelor of Education, we both majored in English.

Watching one’s child graduate is always a moment of pride but today I was proud of Melaina for more than hanging in there and completing her degree while raising her children. I was also incredibly proud of her for the job that she’s doing with those children. Though today’s program lasted almost two and a half hours, their behaviour was fantastic!

Melaina has no immediate plans for the degree that she’s finally completed. She works as a part time administrative assistant for her church, a job that allows her to work from home. Though she’s a gifted administrator, being Mom is her first priority these days.

  

This morning when Melaina was telling Drew about what we’d be doing today, he told her that someday Mommy, Daddy, Gram and Grandpa would come to his graduation too. I hope so Drew, I really hope so!

Chrissy, child of my heart

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I gave birth to three of our children, one we adopted at birth and one is the child of my heart. It was a spring day in 2002, when Christina came to Richard at school and asked if she could come live with us. We talked about it, prayed about it and decided that it was a perfect fit. Our youngest, Nathan, was about to finish high school and head off to college but I wasn’t ready for an empty nest. Ours was a home that needed a child and Christina was a child who needed a home.

Chrissy hadn’t seen or heard from her father since she was a preschooler. With her mother and younger brother, she’d spent her childhood moving from place to place as her mother moved in and out of one relationship after another. When it became obvious that that was about to happen again, Chrissy decided that this time she simply couldn’t go. She had recently become a Christian, had made a new circle of supportive friends that included our daughter, was involved in a youth group and wanted to finish high school in one place.

Though we reminded her that in spite of the fact that their relationship was in tatters at the time, she had only one mother who’s place we would never be able to fill, we welcomed her into our home and took on the role of surrogate parents. Like any parent/teen relationship, ours had its ups and downs, its good times and its bad but we bonded and became family.

There were funny moments, of course, but one stands out as being the most hilarious. Shortly after moving in with us, Christina accompanied Richard and I on a trip to Vancouver to meet my parents and our oldest son, Matt. My parents immediately accepted her as another grandchild. Rather than buying gifts at Christmastime, it was their habit to send each of their grandchildren a cheque. When December rolled around and it was time to write the cheques, my father realized that he didn’t know Chrissy’s last name. He asked Matt who couldn’t remember either. He, in turn, volunteered to phone our daugher, Melaina, at college to ask her. When Melaina got off the phone, her roommate (now her sister-in-law) asked who she’d been talking to. “That was my brother,” she replied. “He needed to know my sister’s last name.” It wasn’t until she realized that her roommate was looking at her quite oddly that she realized how strange that sounded! She had to go on to explain that our family really wasn’t as dysfunctional as that made us sound!

Eventually, Chrissy went off to college too and there she met a fine young man. We were delighted when she and Buck married and lived for a time in Sedgewick. They even moved into our house and took care of it for us for the year that we lived in Japan. Now they live in Winnipeg and have a darling 21-month-old daughter who calls us Gram and Grandpa.

Ten years have passed since Chrissy visited Richard’s classroom in search of a stable Christian home. How fitting that I should spend this Mother’s Day here in her home!

Chrissy, child of my heart

 

The job jar

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I’ve taken on the daunting task of cleaning and reorganizing our basement storage room this week. It doesn’t happen very often and when it does, I’m always reminded how abundantly blessed we are. There are so many families in this world who live in less space than that 180 square foot storage room and who, even in their wildest dreams, couldn’t imagine owning enough stuff to fill it!

While I was down there this evening sorting through everything from gift wrap to sleeping bags and luggage, I was thinking that it was time to write another blog post and wondering what it should be about. Suddenly, there it was… the job jar! Why in the world had I ever kept that thing? Obviously, it must have been so that I could blog about it! My kids are definitely going to roll their eyes when they see this one!

The job jar came into existence in 1992. That spring, Matthew was 12, Melaina 8 and Nathan 7. Though being a mom was always my first priority, I’d been back in the classroom teaching approximately half time for the three years since Nathan had entered kindergarten. As plans were being made for the following school year, I was offered a significant increase in teaching time. If I accepted, I’d be working almost full time. When I thought about all the lesson planning, marking and reporting that would be involved, I wasn’t sure how I’d balance that with the demands of a busy family. Richard and I talked it over, decided that I should accept the position and then called a family meeting.

Family meetings weren’t part of our normal routine so the kids knew that something big was up. We gave them a choice. Since I wasn’t going to have time to do everything that I’d been doing around the house, we could either spend some of the extra money that I’d be earning to hire a housekeeper or we could all chip in and do the housework together, save the money and spend it on a trip to Disneyland the following summer. The vote was unanimous; Disneyland, of course!

We decided that we’d clean house every Saturday morning. The next question was how to divide the labour to ensure that everything got done reasonably well and that no one got stuck doing the same mundane tasks week after week. The job jar was Nathan’s idea. Even at seven, he was a creative thinker and a problem solver. Put the jobs you want us to do in a jar, he suggested, and we’ll do whichever ones we pull out.

That’s exactly what we did. Since there were five of us, ten jobs went into the jar; five easier ones and five more challenging ones. Every Saturday morning, everyone pulled one from each category out of the jar and got to work. The only rule was that the chores had to be completed by noon. Of course there were times when we had to make exceptions because someone had hockey or another activity that morning.

For the system to work, Richard and I also had to be willing to adjust our standards. We didn’t put up with sloppy work but obviously we couldn’t expect a 7 or 8 year old to do the same job we might do. If the bathroom didn’t get cleaned quite as thoroughly when it was a child’s turn, that was okay. The next time one of us might pull that job. An added benefit was the fact that all three of our children learned how to keep house at an early age!

So what were the jobs that went into the old Mason jar? The easier jobs included

  • Dust the livingroom
  • Clean the small bathroom (actually a half bathroom)
  • Tidy the basement playroom and empty the garbage cans
  • Wipe the walls in the porch, kitchen, livingroom, hall and bathrooms (just fingerprints and scuff marks)
  • Wash the breakfast dishes
The more difficult tasks were
  • Vacuum the livingroom, hall and bedrooms
  • Clean the main bathroom
  • Tidy the porch and sweep the kitchen, porch and stairs
  • Wash the kitchen floor, the porch and the stairs
  • Sweep and wash the bathroom floors

Things went smoothly and there were very few complaints until one point when we all began to notice that Melaina, an early riser, was doing the same jobs every Saturday. At first, we were proud of her for getting up and getting starting on her chores while the rest of us were still rubbing the sleep out of our eyes but we weren’t quite so happy when we realized that she was going through the job jar and picking out the chores she liked best!  All in all, though, the venture was a huge success.

The summer of 1993 became much more than just a trip to Disneyland. We started by driving out to Vancouver for my brother’s wedding on the 3rd of July. Following that, a six week road trip with the tent trailer in tow took us down the Pacific coast all the way to San Diego where we made a day trip across the Mexican border to Tijuana, then across the desert to Pheonix, Arizona, north to the Grand Canyon, and eventually all the way back to Alberta. In addition to Disneyland, we toured Universal Studios and the San Diego zoo, walked the streets of Hollywood and the beaches of the Oregon Coast, hiked the red rock canyons of Utah and experienced so much more!

And what happened to the job jar when the journey was done? By that time, it had become such a part of our family routine that regardless of how many hours I taught it continued in use until the kids left home! Only then did it find it’s way to the storage room shelf!

Nate’s date

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Tonight will be our final performance of The Black Bonspiel of Wullie MacCrimmon but unless something very unusual happens, last night’s will be the most memorable one for me. That’s because of who was in the audience.

Because this is small town theatre, we always know many of the people who come to watch but for Richard and I, rarely are they family. Last night was different. Our youngest son drove home from the city, two hours each way, to see us onstage. That would be memorable in itself but it was who he chose to take as his date that made the evening special.

For several summers back when he was still in school, Nate did mowing and other yard work for one of our local seniors. Mary would always have a cold can of pop waiting for him when he finished working and they would sit and chat. Out of that grew an unusual friendship that has stood the test of time. Now well into her nineties and still living alone in her own home, Mary always asks about “her boy” when she sees me. Though Nathan doesn’t get home very often any more, when he does he usually stops by to see her and once in awhile he phones her just to chat. Imagine her delight when he got in touch to see if she’d be his date for last night’s dinner theatre! Like any good date would, he took flowers when he went to pick her up and when I stopped by their table after the performance, she was glowing!

Can you blame me for being a proud mom?

Sometimes I need an ocean

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When life gets stressful, as it sometimes does, what I really want to do is walk by the ocean and be soothed by the sound of the surf. That’s probably because, as a child, I could hear the rhythm of the waves from my bed as I drifted off to sleep.

The past week has been a stressful one; a week of worrying about my parents. Dad hasn’t been well. That resulted in both parents literally sleeping through one entire day… no food, no water, no medication! If my sister hadn’t phoned that evening, who knows what might have happened?

Recognizing the need for a better emergency plan, my sis and I have spent the week making phone calls, gathering information, asking questions we’d rather not have to ask. Dad is Mom‘s primary caregiver and we’re a province away. What do we do if something happens to him? Is it any wonder that I feel like I need an ocean to walk by?

Alas, there are no oceans here on the Alberta prairie but as I mentioned in my last post, whenever I have the opportunity to walk by the sea I bring home all sorts of bits and pieces… shells, driftwood, sea glass. Many favourite pieces have found their way into our main bathroom. There’s a giant pink conch shell bought for $1 on a beach road in the Bahamas in 1977. We had just found out that I was pregnant with our first child. There’s a beautiful abalone shell, given to my husband by a ranger at a campground on the California coast in 1993. Then there are all the pieces that I’ve picked up over the years. Some are quite ordinary… oyster, clam and mussel shells. Others are special… moon snails treasured since childhood, a razor clam from the PEI beach where my grandfather probably played as a child, a tiny shell from our first visit to Japan, beautiful pieces of sea glass from Saipan and most recently, a shell from Costa Rica.

   


I may not be able to walk by the ocean and let the sound of the surf wash away my troubles but at least I can retreat to the bathroom and relax in a warm tub surrounded by my seaside treasures. Occasionally, a glass of wine even goes with me!

What a difference a year can make!

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In January of last year, our two-year-old grandson, Drew, was diagnosed with a severe phonological disorder. His speech was virtually unintelligible. Over the past year, Drew and his Mommy, our daughter Melaina, have worked very hard and Drew has had some speech therapy. The results have been astounding! By summertime, he had been upgraded from “severe” to “moderate” and at his latest speech assessment in late January, he was deemed to be within the normal range of speech development for a child of his age! Wow! What a difference a year can make!

Melaina delights in sharing some of Drew’s cutest conversations. Here’s a recent one she overheard between him and his 21-month-old sister as they headed downstairs to their bedroom:

Best Friends

Drew: Come on, Jami. We play soccer ours room.
Jami: Ok!
Drew: We best friends! Right, Jami?
Jami: Uh huh!

Doesn’t that just bless your heart? Here’s another one that tickled my funny bone:

Mommy: Drew, did you colour on your sister?
Drew: Yes.
Mommy: Why?!
Drew: Because! Her get in way of paper I colouring!

And here’s one more from yesterday:

Drew: Mommy, we go buy some new toys?
Mommy: No, we’re not going to buy new toys today.
Drew: Yes! Mine’s are old and strange!

While it warms our heart to be able to carry on a conversation with Drew and life is so much easier for him now that he can make his thoughts and feelings known, his challenges are not over yet. He still struggles with the sounds that are typically difficult for three-year-olds but, unlike his peers, these mispronunciations won’t simply correct themselves over time. Melaina and Aaron will have to continue working with him, carefully teaching him how to make each sound correctly.

They’ve also been warned that children with speech delays like Drew’s typically have difficulty learning to read. That was difficult news to digest for parents who are avid readers but Melaina isn’t one to take something like that lying down. In fact, she was already doing things that would give him a head start toward learning to read before she was even given this news; taking the children to an early literacy program at their local library and reading to them daily. She’d also started teaching Drew to recognize and print the capital letters. Now, three months short of his fourth birthday, he knows all the upper and lower case letters and is beginning to learn the sounds that each one makes. At this rate, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s reading before he goes to school!

Ta da!

Photos by Melaina Graham